Betrothed
by Verbophobic
Summary: When a grandsire betrothes their grandchildren


Praxus and Vos are, what is considered by most of the mechanical beings called Transformers, sister states. The two cities due to the population of both being winged beings - one flight capable the other ground bound- declared a strong friendship for the millenia of vorns that they've both been inhabited. If one ever needed something they could rely upon the help and cooperation of the other in those times of need.

But now, war was a threat between the two. It started Vorns ago when the Lord of Praxus passes away suddenly and the two city-states began a very rocky and troublesome collaboration. Vos knew it was because of the new Lord, a very stern and fairly harsh femme that was said to not have a single kind line in her. Praxus knew it too but rather than being considered traitorous to the Lord they were very vocal about how Vos was the cause.

In the current age the relations were teetering upon a knife's edge, a threat to fall either way of cut itself open. Within the two city-states there was an alarming rise of missing sparklings. With the high security within the two places there was little access to other states but the sister one. So as the rate rose higher and higher tensions went along with it. There was accusations and blame from many nobles that it was the sister state that was the cause, all the accusers seemed to forget that their home wasn't the only place with sparklings that disappeared.

Before relations could fall apart any further the two rulers called a meeting. The Femme that lorded Praxus and the Mech that ruled over Vos as the Winglord. The rules of the meeting were simple, they could bring one body guard and their heir was to come too. SImply to show the trust they had in the sister state to bring such a necessary person with them.

"Sire," A neutral and monotone sounding mech called out, "there has become a problem. My mate has fallen ill and the sparklings are running a temperature. The aids have been banned by the medic due to ththe possibility that their coding might be able to become infected too." Prowl stood tall, wings high with no indication or worry.

He was a handsome mech, his face perfectly chiseled into a stern mimicry of his Sire's. Wings that spayed high and fanned far from his frame a show of no fear and high sensory net, the black and white the coloring of his current job as an Enforcer like his Sire before and his Grandsire before that and further on.

Then his Sire turned around. She looked down upon him and a lip twitched. While she held such pride of her perfect creation, she hated his mate and their young, all wingless glitches to her. "Toss them to some other aid then." Amber optics narrowed and Prowl shook his helm at that look.

She knew and he knew the situation with the aids, the praxian ones- the immune ones- hated the sparklings due to their lack of wings and if these two went missing, all attempts at salvaging this situation would fail.

"Leave them with their carrier, they are all sick anyway." The femme tried to urge.

"Negligence? From the Lord of Praxus upon the next Heirs of the state?" She hissed at her creation, damn him. Prowl knew he won. Knew that this was a battle she had to stop fighting or risk being late; and a praxian was never late least they have no reputation.

"Let us go. If I hear a peep out of them, they will be handed off to the first aid I see."

One of them chose then to sniffle while the other sneezed, and spat all over Prowl. He barely managed to hide a smile, knowing his creator was disgusted. He himself was a bit disgusted but it was adorable too, the sound the one made had been a high pitched keening sound drowned out by their own honk which caused them to startle and look up with the most adorable and confused expressions.

"One. Sound." The Lord hissed one more time before moving, her cloak followed behind her just like her child did, his own two in arms. It would be fine, he knew how to worm his way around all his carrier said and threatened.

.~:*:~.

Fussy sparklings were another thing. Jazz had mastered feeding both at once and Prowl still struggled to force the fluids to flow at times. Now was one of those inopportune times. Whimpers of sparklings being 'teased' with food but getting none were catching the attention of the Winglord. Prowl had hidden his sparklings under his own cloak as he hid his wings away and let the two play with their dolls and sleep as needed.

But now as they nibbled at finger he opened his feeding tubes… and they were dry. Prowl was beginning to get panicky, he needed to feed them or they would wail and their underdeveloped sirens would go off. "You have a sparkling." The winglord announced and Prowl stood up.

"I apologize, they are getting a bit fussy from hunger. I must excuse myself so I may feed them."

"No, stay. I adore sparklings, truly. You are not their carrier and are not the one to regularly feed are you?" Prowl lowered his head some, shame was obvious through his neutrality.

"Why is it hidden?" The second trine's leader asked from behind the Winglord, accusation obvious.

"Illness Winglord, as is the carrier struck with. All aids were banned from being around the sick least the infection spread. I did not want to risk a spread to our Vossian dignitaries that have come to visit." He pushed a finger further in a mouth hoping that the fuel would flow soon. All he succeeded in was making someone wail, and that set off the other and then the sirens blared.

Oh how furious his sire looked.

"Give the sparkling here." The Winglord demanded and Prowl hesitated before moving over.

"Forgive me," He said softly. "Si-" He cut off before spouting out the designation that was banned due to the non-praxian heritage, "opics are like the carriers, light is harsh upon them and-" He hated what he was about to say. "They are defective sparklings." His shoulders drooped and there was agony at his own words in his field.

"Do not lie," The winglord advised. "You do not see your child as defective, so they are not to be claimed as that."

"Wingless, I have failed as a sire to give the coding over to create wings." Prowl warned before shuffling closer, "Both arms." He urged when only one servo was held out.

"Is your sparkling that large?" The Winglord chuckled in a joking manner but Prowl didn't say anything. Then in each servo a sniffling sparkling was put. "Two?" The large seeker gawped then looking them over his optics brightened with an intensity Prowl had never seen a Seeker have. "Twins?!" The wailing slowed as fingers were put into their mouths and fuel flowed. "What decent? I can see the Praxian in their face's but those audio's…?"

"Polyhexian." Prowl reached out to tweak an audio fin on one and got a growl for his affections.

"Polyhex… Are they not the most attuned to all things around them?" Prowl was becoming cautious about the questions but nodded an affirmative to this. "Let my sparkling and his trine in." He demanded of his second trine. The mech flustered about before doing as told.

"Winglord," The Lord of Praxus said, she hated where this was going. "What is the point of this? We have to finish-"

"You are no longer needed Lord of Praxus. I wish to speak to this one only." He'd always disliked the Praxian femme, she never liked sparklings except her own and even then… The winglord knew Prowl was cold on his exterior because of how his creator raised him. As soon as the fuming Lord left the Seeker released a heavy sigh. "I know she is your sire but some times…"

"She hates them. Sometimes I fear what she would do to them if their Carrier wasn't always with them. It is why _I_ banned the aids, telling them the medic refused to let them near due to illness." Prowl admitted and just then three seekerling s hurried in. The tri colored one the obvious prince, but with him was a dominant blue one almost double the prince's size and a purple and black one that stumbled about with too large of wings. "He's not the dominant." Prowl announced and kneeled to put a servo over his spark and bowed to the young prince. Who looked at the blue one and with a nod from the dominant the child mimicked the bow.

"Yes, and their trine will fail because of it. He must lead Vos as the heir, but he's also the carrier of the trine and that can not happen. Carriers can not be the Winglords. His trinemate would take that title but as my blood he will never be able to carry a spark without reabsorbing it. Their third has a sigma that wouldn't allow a spark to even form. They need… another. Someone that should carry for them but understand them, be attuned to all that the trine could ask for without being trine, a bond would be formed but there is a difference between a trine bond and anything else."

"Is that how you suggest we urge this peace? Through what you are implying?"

"Yes."

"I- I want to accept, though it is their carrier you must talk to about it. Polyhexian's are picky about this sort of thing." The large dominant youngling made his way over and patted one of the grounders. The black hand of the grounder child latched onto him and the mouth stopped feeding to smile at the seeker and chirr. "It won't be too hard i suppose, just let the twins play with your young trine and Jazz may come around."


End file.
